


Curious Little Housekeeper

by Jen Bradlee (BlackShip)



Category: Chris Evans - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Fingering, Hotel Sex, Housekeeper, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Seduction, Sex, floor to ceiling window, jerking off, not gonna lie it's hot, shower, voyerism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-13
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-06-08 06:27:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6842749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackShip/pseuds/Jen%20Bradlee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jen starts working as a housekeeper on the penthouse floor of a ritzy hotel.</p><p>When she accidentally walks in on one of her guests jerking off in the shower, she realizes who it is...and then it all falls apart when he catches her watching him.</p><p>Curiosity killed the cat, darling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Curious Little Housekeeper

**Author's Note:**

  * For [evansrogerskitten](https://archiveofourown.org/users/evansrogerskitten/gifts).



> I had this idea hit me and I had to write it.
> 
> I'm not even going to hide the fact that I am the girl in the story. Cause, yeah, who wouldn't want this.
> 
> Yes, I'm actually a housekeeper at a hotel. No, it hasn't actually happened with anyone...especially not Chris. Much to my chagrin. 
> 
> Also, Chris, I'm sorry again. Seb, if you find this, don't tell Chris. Okay? Thanks.

I knocked on the door. "Housekeeping," I shouted through the pristine wood. My first week working without a trainer and they put me on the penthouse floor of the hotel. I was still terrified I'd fuck up somehow.

I knocked again, louder this time.

No answer.

I glanced at my watch. It was after ten, perhaps the guest had left for the day. I slid my key card into the slot and opened the door. Peeking inside, I glanced around.

"Housekeeping," I called out.

No response.

I parked my cart across the entrance and stepped into the room. Moving with practiced speed, I scanned the kitchen and dining room area for any trash and supplies that needed to be replenished. I opened the fridge to do the same. Nothing out of place. I grinned. Finally, an easy room.

I moved to the bedroom and straightened the sheets, fixed the comforter, and then smoothed the bedspread out, making sure to fold the edge down neatly. A handful of clothes lay on the floor by the foot of the bed while a suitcase and duffle bag lay against the far wall. The leather wristwatch and wallet on the nightstand made me pause.

Then I heard it. The melodious strains of music and running water.

 _Shit!_ He was in the shower.

Panic seized my heart. Taking a few deep breaths, I quickly moved to the door leading to the bathroom. It wasn't closed completely and steam wafted through the gap along with a familiar song...I just couldn't think of the title.

My hand rested on the knob, ready to pull it closed, when I saw him through the glass shower door and a haze of steam. His broad shoulders tapered to narrow hips and a finely carved ass. I wanted to reach out and see if it was as firm as it looked.

He shifted, running his hands through his hair as he delved beneath the water.

 _Oh, my God_. He turned and his profile... _oh shit. Shit...son of a bitch_.

I tried to remember the name of the occupant where it was listed on my cleaning list. _Evans, C._ Then it all clicked into place.

I hadn't thought it would actually be Chris Evans. But here he was. Captain America himself, naked and wet, while I spied on him like some kind of hormone challenged fangirl.

My mind told me to leave. Just back away slowly, forget it ever happened. Leave the room and call in sick for the rest of my life.

I bit my lip to stifle the groan of disappointment...for having to leave this and basically ensuring my unemployment status.

Mesmerized, I stared at him as his hands glided over his torso, down over his stomach. He turned to rinse his face under the water, giving me full view of his body. My gaze dropped.

Oh, sweet fucking mercy. His cock. I...well, I'd never expected much from a man before. But this definitely set a new standard.

When he wrapped his hand around it and stroked the length, I stopped breathing. His rhythmic strokes, down and back up, mesmerized me.

My attention alternated between his hand and his face. His eyes closed in concentration. He braced his other hand on the wall and picked up the pace.

The sound of his hand working his cock mixed with water splashing into the drain and the soft echo of the music created an erotic melody. _Oh fuck me._

If I was smart, I would have just left and forgotten it ever happened. But I wasn't and I didn't. Instead, I watched him in fascination. I didn't have to touch myself to know I was wetter than he was...and he was the one in the shower. All I had to do was reach my hand inside my panties, and I'd come.

But I was supposed to be working. I shouldn't be spying on a guest in the shower and masturbating to them masturbating. I mean, seriously, this was almost like some cheap dime store smut novel. Only it wasn't. It was my reality. Standing in Chris Evans' hotel room watching him jerk off in the shower when I should be cleaning his room.

His head tipped back and he moaned. The sound cut through the ambient noise and straight to my pussy making it ache even more. He groaned as he stroked faster.

A heavy grunt fell from his parted lips my gaze dropped in time to see cum coat his hand as it encompassed his cock. With a few last short strokes, he released himself and leaned against the wall.

My hand slipped from the knob with a _click_.

His head snapped up, eyes locking with mine through the gap.

I gasped and spun away from the door. _Oh, shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Son-of-a-bitch._ With determined strides I made for the door and quickly exited the penthouse. Pulling the door closed behind me, I pushed my cart down the hall to the housekeeping closet and fumbled with the key.

A glance over my shoulder assured me that he hadn't come after me. But I couldn't take any chances.

I opened the door and stepped into my closet. He was my last room on the floor, so I quickly put away my supplies and filled out my paperwork before grabbing my water bottle and darting for the elevator.

I pushed the button, willing it to move faster. My mind swam with images of him in the shower, glorious and naked and wet and hard as a rock....oh, God. I could have died of embarrassment in that moment.

I just wanted to get home. Home, where I could pull out my vibrator and relive it over and over while I came again and again. Oh, God, how was I going to go to work after this?

The doors slid open, and I darted inside pushing the lobby button as quickly as I could. I heard the telltale _snick_ of a door closing. Just as the elevator doors slid together, I saw him.

My heart raced as my face heated. _Oh, God, no. Please, no._

He reached for the elevator to stop it... _thud._

The doors closed before he could stop them.

A wave of relief washed over me even as a hint of disappointment stabbed my chest. I wanted him to stop me. I wanted a lot more than that after seeing him in the shower.

But I couldn't have him. I didn't want to lose my job...and there was no way in hell he'd want a woman like me.

I hung my head as the elevator descended. When I reached the lobby, I headed to the housekeeping office and clocked out. Then I made a beeline for the bus stop and ignored the urge to return and apologize for spying on him inadvertently.

I dreaded the idea of returning to work in the morning.

***

When I walked in the hotel the next day, every single one of my senses were on high alert. I'd waited by the phone all night afraid my supervisor would call me and tell me I was fired because Mr. C. Evans had filed a complaint. But the call never came.

Waking up had been a chore. I wanted to roll over in bed, pull the covers over my head and fake an illness of some sort. But I'd just started this job. I couldn't call in...Especially when I wasn't sick. My mom had raised me better than that. Damn it.

She'd also raised me to respect other people's personal space and not spy on men while they're in the shower jerking off. Okay, not that specific scenario, but that's not the point.

I paused outside the door to the housekeeping office.

"Pretend like it never happened," I whispered to myself before opening the door.

A few of my co-workers greeted me, my supervisor waved in salutation, but no one gave me more than a cursory glance. I felt the tension ease out of me. Well, that's one hurdle cleared.

But deep in the pit of my stomach, a knot of fear twisted at the thought of returning to the penthouse floor.

I picked up my clipboard and keys as well as the small walkie-talkie that connected me to the front desk. I tucked the keys and the walkie in my pocket...God, I hated this uniform. The gargantuan pockets and baggy style were more suited to a damned ninety-year-old woman who favored mumus, Pall Mall cigarettes, and soap operas. I sighed. This was yet another reason why there was no way in hell a celebrity, let alone Chris Evans, would even look twice at me.

I looked like a goddamned grandma. I cringed when I remembered I'd twisted my hair up in a bun today. _Motherfucker_.

Making my way to the elevator, I read through the list on my clipboard. Three checkouts, two light services, and a full service. C. Evans was listed as a light service today. At least that was a saving grace, I wouldn't have to spend much time in there. Although I had hoped he would check out today...save me a lot of awkward time.

Once I reached my floor, I went straight to work. No reason to worry about Mr. Evans. I'd do his room last, to ensure he wasn't there.

Four hours later, I stood before his room.

My hand shook as I raised it to knock.

"Housekeeping," I said and my voice cracked. I knocked again and spoke more clearly this time. "Housekeeping."

No reply.

I slid my key into the reader and opened the door.

Once I glanced around to be sure no one was in the room, I set to work. Restock the kitchen, the bathroom—which was empty this time—and then make the bed. As I tucked the last pillow into place, I noticed the piece of paper sitting on the nightstand.

_You dropped your name tag yesterday. Stop by my room first tomorrow, I'll return it personally._

My hand flew to my chest right where my nametag should have been, but wasn't.

"Shit!" Panic began to creep in.

He could have turned me into my superiors, but he didn't. He knew I'd seen him, but didn't file a complaint. I chewed on the edge of my nail. But why?

I tucked the piece of paper into my pocket and headed for the door. When I passed the desk, I paused for a moment. Maybe I should leave him a note.

Quickly I scribbled a reply and placed it by the bed.

_Thank you. I can't stop at your room first, but I shall be sure to stop at noon to retrieve it during my lunch break. ~ Jen_

Once I put my note where his had been, I left the room. It seemed the odds were not in my favor. I'd have to face him.

***

I didn't sleep. I couldn't. My mind spun with possibilities, most of them involving me getting my ass handed to me and a big fat pink slip with a swift kick in the direction of the door. But there hadn't been a call from my supervisor or the manager of the hotel.

The fear lingered as I approached his room. I glanced at my watch. It was five after twelve. My last room had needed a few extra things, pushing into my lunch hour.

I barely knocked when the door opened beneath my fist. A lump of anxiety the size of a goddamn softball lodged in my throat. Not only was he home...he expected me.

Swallowing my pride, I pushed the door open and stepped into the room.

"Housekeeping," I said it as a reflex. Not the best way to introduce oneself, especially since I was technically on my break.

"Come in," a voice echoed from the living room.

I walked around the corner, tucking my hands into the oversized pockets of my uniform. I hung my head in an effort to seem penitent.

"So, you're my curious little housekeeper."

Oh, God, his voice. Like melted butter on grandma's goddamn fresh cinnamon rolls. Rich and spicy and so fucking bad for me. My subconscious recalled the way his moans and grunts echoed off the tile in the bathroom when he—I shook my head.

"Yes, I'm Jen." I glanced up and saw him walking toward me with a glass of water in his hand.

He took a sip and set it on the counter as he passed. My gaze drifted to the muscles in his neck as he swallowed. How was it possible for a man to be that fucking hot?

And that beard—Jesus H. Christ, I was going to die. I wanted to touch it. I wanted to touch all of him. Fuck me, I was going to get fired if I acted on the dirty thoughts that flitted through my mind.

I took an inadvertent step backward and schooled my features into a pleasant mask. The kind they teach you to perfect in customer service.

But Chris Evans was walking toward me. Determination in his eyes and his gate. Every step he took that brought him closer made me want to bolt.

I half expected my back to slam into the wall or trip over a table in my half-assed retreat. But although I wanted to leave, a small piece of my soul screamed to stay. My soul must be a masochist and like being unemployed living on ramen noodles and sleeping on my sister's couch.

Chris paused with a smile as if he knew the power he wielded over me. He picked up a small name tag sitting on the edge of the counter.

"You dropped this, Jen." He held out his fist.

I pulled my hand from my pocket and held it out, palm up. His hand hovered above mine, the heat making my body flush with awareness of his presence. He opened his fist and my nametag dropped into my trembling hand.

"Tha...Thank you." Our gazes met and held for a brief moment. Long enough for me to lose myself in the depth of his eyes. Not as blue as I'd imagined Captain America's had been...more oceanic. Was that even a word?

Lost in my own thoughts, I missed his comment.

"Sorry, what?" I managed to sputter.

He smiled. "I said, I found it outside my bathroom."

"Oh, well I must have dropped it when I was cleaning the other day. Thank you again." I backed toward the door. "I'll leave you to your...I'll just go."

Chris stalked toward me, his expression unreadable, but his movements spoke of a man who knew what he wanted. A tilted smile hung on his lips...almost a smirk, but more amused than confident.

My back collided with the door, and when I reached for the handle, his hand came down on the wood next to my head effectively closing off my only means of escape.

I blinked up at him, my mouth suddenly dry and words...what are words? A blank spot danced in my mind where thoughts should have been. All I could focus on was the man crowding my personal space.

Fuck personal space...who needs it anyway. I licked my lips.

The scent of soap and cologne blended with his heat creating an intoxicating aroma. I closed my eyes and inhaled sharply letting it sink into my mind, permanently etching it into my memory. He smelled better than I imagined he would. Better than any man should be allowed to smell.

He chuckled. "Did you just sniff me?"

My eyes flew open locking with his. I scowled. "Please, move your arm."

"I'll let you leave if you answer a question for me." His lips distracted me and it took half a moment for me to register his words.

I saw it in his eyes. He knew. He freaking new I'd seen him jerking off in the shower. Not that I'd stumbled across him in the shower...but that I'd watched him intentionally.

"Fine," I replied with an exaggerated sigh. I couldn't let him know how much his presence affected me.

"Do you spy on all the guests...or just the celebrities?"

I slapped his arm away, furious with him for asking such a stupid question.

He dropped it with a laugh.

"I have never spied on a guest before...it...it was an accident. It's not my fault you didn't hear me when I came in the room. I'm normally quite vocal when I first enter a room."

"Really? Vocal are you?" He smirked.

I snapped my mouth closed and frowned. He was baiting me.

"I apologize for any embarrassment or inconvenience I may have caused. It was not my intention to watch..." I clapped my hand over my mouth.

"Oh, no, please continue. This is just getting interesting." He remained close but crossed his arms across his chest.

When I didn't reply, he pressed closer. "So you admit to not only seeing me in the shower but watching..." He unfolded his arms and leaned his hands against the wall beside my shoulders caging me in. "Tell me, Jen. What did you see?"

I shook my head. "Nothing."

"Come on. I can tell by that lovely shade of red creeping up your neck and into your face that you saw much more than you're willing to say." Chris grinned. His voice dropped to a husky murmur. "I want to hear you say the words. What did you see?"

"You." I met his stare. His presence intimidated me, yet I couldn't back down from a challenge. He wanted me to say exactly what I saw. He obviously had no idea who I was. I'd been holding back for the sake of my job, but we were well past propriety now and I was willing to bet he wasn't going to go to management after this conversation if he hadn't already.

"Go on." His breath brushed across my jaw.

I cocked my head a bit and smiled. "I went to close the door when I saw you in the shower...your fist wrapped around your cock and your body wet and tense and ready for release." I licked my lips when I saw his eyes darken. It emboldened me. "I watched you stroke yourself until you came all over your hand."

His breathing quickened as he tensed. A heartbeat of silence passed between us until he spoke.

"Did you enjoy watching me jerk off in the shower?" His voice dropped an octave...nearly a rough whisper.

I nodded.

"Did it make you wet?"

I nodded again, slowly, licking my lips.

"After you ran away, did you touch yourself thinking of me?"

I smirked this time.

His body pressed closer to mine. I felt every solid inch of him pinning me against the door. His erection insistent against my stomach even through his and my clothes.

Our breaths mingled in heated tension.

"My lunch break is nearly over," I whispered. "I need to return to work."

"How much time do you have?" he asked. Close, so close, his lips teased me being so full, so fucking close.

"Not nearly long enough," I murmured.

He crushed his mouth against mine, and my heart flipped three times before taking flight.

Any rational thought leaped right out the window. Heat blossomed between us as his tongue slipped between my lips. I gasped at the delightful invasion as he wrapped his arms around me, drawing me away from the wall.

His hands roamed over my back and drew up the back of my shirt. Fingertips danced across my bare skin as he delved beneath the waistband of my pants.

Chris drew my lip between his teeth as he slid his hand across my bare hip. When his hand slipped between us, he shifted to the side.

I clutched at his shoulders, needing to be closer to him, craving skin to skin contact. He brushed his hand across my wet pussy, and I cried out against his mouth.

"You are vocal," he murmured between kisses.

He slipped two fingers into my aching pussy.

I swore this time. "Shit, oh, son-of-a-bitch..."

As his fingers moved inside me, I ground my hips against his hand, teasing my clit until I feared I would burst. Those talented fingers played me like a goddamn instrument. I clung to him in a desperate effort to remain standing. Chris pinned me firmly against the door.

He trailed kisses down my throat as he fucked me with his sinfully agile fingers. When he bit the soft flesh just below my ear, I fucking fell apart. As the climax tore through my body, I threw my weight against him, my nails digging into his skin through his Henley.

"Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck..." I babbled as I came down from the high, leaning my head against his chest.

He leaned back and smiled down at me. Once he eased his fingers from my pulsing cunt, he brought them to his lips and licked them clean.

I stared mesmerized at the action. It was fucking hot, not going to lie.

"Now that I've had a taste..." He arched his brow when he cocked his head and smiled at me. "Would you like to come over for dinner? I mean, we could skip to dessert, but I'm trying to be a gentleman."

The haze of my orgasm must have clouded my judgment. I nodded.

"Eight o'clock. Dress casual, I plan on taking it all off of you anyway." He touched my shirt hem. "Not that this isn't sexy as sin. Seducing the housekeeper." He kissed me softly before adding, "I want to see all of you...after work."

"Oh, my God." I straightened and pulled away from him when he reminded me that I was technically still on the clock. "I have to get back to work." I reached for the door handle.

He chuckled. "Eight then?"

"Okay." I opened the door and stepped out into the hall.

I heard the door close behind me, and I rushed down the hall to my little closet. I glanced in the mirror hanging on the back of the door. I looked guilty and a bit flushed, but otherwise, a little bit of grooming and no one would be the wiser.

I grinned at my own reflection. I was totally going to bang Chris Evans.

***

My hands fucking shook as I pressed the elevator button in the lobby. The doors slid open, and I stepped inside, willing my feet one in front of the other. What the hell was I doing?

When I'd left his room earlier the haze of pleasure had distracted me from reality. Once I finished work and went home, it slammed into me like a freight train. I think I used every swear word in my available vocabulary as I showered and prepared for an evening with Chris fucking Evans.

I pressed my hand to my chest and took several deep breaths. My reflection in the polished doors stared back at me. I smoothed my hand across my torso and down the flare of the fitted skirt. He'd said casual, but I couldn't wear jeans. No, an event like this called for a little more class. So I pulled out a little black form-fitting gown I'd been saving for a special occasion.

Thank fuck I still fit in it.

Not like it would matter.

Another wave of nausea made me sway, and I leaned against the wall. Uncertainty and doubt skittered along the back of my mind.

The door opened to the penthouse floor.

"Calm down," I scolded myself under my breath as I exited the elevator. "Be yourself, just fucking be you."

I knocked on his door.

My heart stopped when he opened it. He wore dark slacks, a dress shirt with a bright red tie, and a grin that made my stomach drop into a bottomless pit.

"Hi, come on in." He stepped aside and motioned with his arm for me to enter.

My immediate reaction was to see what amenities were needed as I walked into the room. I blinked twice to push the thought aside. My mind's way of distracting from the dangerously handsome man standing behind me.

Nice try, brain, but the scent of his cologne brought back the memory of him in the shower stroking himself, of him pinning me against the wall his fingers buried in me until I shattered.

"You look lovely," he said as he closed the door and took my arm.

"Thank you." I turned to face him, noting the way his appreciative gaze swept down the length of me and then back again.

"They should burn those uniforms; they don't do a thing for your figure." He grinned and led me to the table by the window overlooking the city.

I laughed. "They are hideous but functional." A sense of comfort began to settle around me. I noticed the simple yet elegant decor on the table next to some Chinese take-out boxes.

"I hope you like Chinese food." Chris pulled out my chair.

"That's fine with me." I sat down and his fingers brushed my bare arms as he stepped away.

"Figured it would give us time to talk without all the fanfare of going out on the town." He took the seat across from me.

"So, Jen," he said as he opened the boxes and began serving the lo main. "How long have you worked at the hotel?"

"A few weeks." I felt my cheeks heat.

"Have you done work like this before?" He put a few other items on my plate, but I didn't recognize them, my mind was spinning.

"No, well, unless you consider cleaning your own house the same kind of work."

He laughed and the sound struck me dumb. Why did he have to have such an infectious laugh?

"Do you like it?" Chris asked before taking a bite of what looked like sesame chicken.

"Yeah, I guess." I shrugged and twisted my fork into the noodles. My stomach revolted at the sight of food, nerves always did that to me. Made me lose my appetite. I forced myself to take a few bites. The delicious taste and Chris' attempt at casual conversation helped settle my nerves, and I found myself ravenous.

We chatted about the city. He asked a few questions about me, but my replies sounded dull to my own ears. I pushed my plate away and took a drink of the wine. The alcohol soothed me, but the intensity of his gaze and genuine curiosity in his questions made me fidget.

Mesmerized by his lips, I watched them as he spoke. So soft, so unbelievably talented. I wanted to taste them again.

"Jen?"

I snapped out of my daydream. "Sorry."

"Am I boring you?" he asked.

Shaking my head, I set the glass down. "No, not at all, it's just...well, I'm not very good at conversation I guess."

"Because of who I am? Or is it because you're distracted?" He pushed away from the table and reached for my hand, pulling me to my feet. The warmth of his hand against my skin sent a rush of need straight to my pussy as though it remembered his touch.

"Both," I confessed.

He gently pulled me toward the floor to ceiling windows. The city sparkled under her shroud of darkness. We stood seventeen floors up giving us a full view of the cityscape.

"I never took the time to look before," I said as I leaned a bit closer, pressing my hand to the glass. "That's one hell of a view."

"Yes, it is." Chris stood behind me, his heat sinking into me. My body flared to life at his proximity.

My eyes adjusted, and instead of seeing the city, I saw our reflection in the glass. He wasn't looking out the window...his attention was on me.

Before I could turn to face him, he slid his arms around my waist. Every hard inch of him pressed against my back. He leaned into me.

The cool sting of the glass against my overheated skin clashed with the heat of his body. I whimpered as he pressed a kiss to my neck, grazing his teeth across the sensitive spot below my ear.

"Chris..." I murmured his name.

His hands responded, inching my skirt up until it bunched around my hips. Fingertips traced the crease where my hips met my thighs. When they slipped beneath the edge of my panties, I moaned.

"Wet for me already?" he asked as he teased my folds.

I leaned my cheek against the cold glass and cried out when he slipped a finger into me. My body arched against him, granting him access to my aching core. As his fingers toyed with my pussy, he kissed my neck.

I knew anyone could see me splayed against the window with Chris bringing me closer to orgasm. The thought alone made me hot. I bit my lip and moaned.

He drew away and spun me in his embrace. "Don't hold back with me. I want to hear every little noise, every whimper, every scream. I want to hear my name on your lips when I fuck you."

"Oh, God." I squeeze my eyes shut. Was he really talking dirty to me right now? If my panties weren't already soaked, they'd be dripping.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked as if taking my sudden silence for hesitation.

"No," I said as I opened my eyes.

He pressed my back against the window.

"As much as I want to take you right here— " he took my hand and led me to his bed "—I'd much rather have you comfortable since I plan on keeping you here all night."

My eyes widened.

He laughed. "You think I'm a once and done kinda guy?" Chris loosened his tie and began unbuttoning his shirt. He shook his head.

"Turn around," he instructed.

Without a word, I turned by back to him.

He carefully unzipped my dress and pulled it down until it lay in a heap around my feet. I gasped when he unsnapped my bra and drew the straps over my shoulders, kissing the skin he'd just revealed. Inch by inch, he ran his lips across my back, exploring me with his tongue.

The last of my reservations melted away when he kissed my shoulder. I twisted just enough to get a glimpse of his face and those impossibly blue eyes. Were there flecks of green in them? I peered closer, and he chuckled.

"Something wrong?"

"Yeah," I turned, my breasts brushing against his shirt. The friction sent a hazy vibration through me amplifying the need pulsing through my veins. I wrapped my arms around his neck. "I didn't get dessert."

He laughed out loud and wrapped his arms around my waist, tossing me down onto the bed. Chris stood over me as he pulled the shirt off and tossed it onto the nearby chair. When he unbuckled his belt, I bit my lip. Holy shit. Lean and toned through his torso, I couldn't help but notice the way his biceps flexed when he pushed his pants down over his hips.

I knew what he looked like naked, but knowing that he was stripping just for me. It made me fucking wet...wetter than I'd ever been in my life. He joined me on the bed, crawling toward me on his hands and knees. No, not crawling, prowling. He looked like he wanted to devour me in one bite.

His gaze remained locked with mine as he hooked his thumbs around the edge of my panties and slowly tugged them down over my hips. Once I was completely naked, a wave of self-consciousness made me pause.

Chris rested his hands on my inner thighs, nudging them apart. He exposed me, and I blushed knowing he saw every bare inch.

Lowering his head, he blew across my wet pussy before slanting his mouth across it. His tongue delved between the folds.

I cried out, grasping the comforter. When he pulled my clit into his mouth, I fisted my hands in his hair. The sensations assaulted me. I whimpered as he licked and nibbled, feasting on me.

"Oh fuck....fuck...shit, Chris...." I mumbled whatever words came flying into my head. When I thought I couldn't take anymore, he fucked me with his fingers and teased my clit with his tongue. An orgasm unlike any I'd ever experienced before slammed into me, and I cried out.

Dazed from the onslaught, I mumbled incoherent words until I felt him pull away.

Smiling, Chris slid his underwear off and reached for something near the foot of the bed.

I basked in the afterglow, thankful my curiosity had finally paid off.

Before I could catch my breath, he'd slid between my thighs and pressed himself at my opening. When he drove into me, his name poured from my lips over and over like a fucking prayer. Having him inside me, filling me, felt perfect.

The entire world faded away when he moved in me. He held me close as he found a rhythm. I met each motion, rocking my hips against his. Oh sweet fucking mercy, it was better than ice cream and Netflix binging. Better than any fantasy I could have dreamed up. Better than watching him jerk off in the shower.

The slow pulse of another orgasm loomed closer and closer as he quickened his pace. He kissed me, stealing my breath. When he dropped his head to my shoulder, I nipped at his neck, raking my teeth across his skin.

"Oh fuck..." He groaned and fucked me harder.

I shattered as another orgasm ricochet through my body. Chris tensed, his breathing hard and fast as he came. He collapsed against me and sighed.

We lay there for a few seconds before he laughed. "I actually had dessert. It's in the fridge."

"I'm not complaining," I replied in a sated, blissful haze.

He rolled off me and slid from the bed. I saw him remove the condom and tie it off before dropping it in the trash. I hadn't even noticed he was wearing one. Nice to know he was smart as well as handsome and good in bed. He pulled on his underwear and disappeared into the kitchen.

Chris returned with a small chocolate coated cake on a plate and two forks.

I sat up and reached for his shirt he'd discarded and tugged it on. He sat on the bed and offered me a fork.

"Hope you like chocolate," he said with an easy smile.

"Better than sex," I teased him.

His gaze narrowed as though insulted by the statement. "Then obviously you're not having the right kind of sex."

"Are you offering to show me what I'm missing?" I dug the fork into the moist cake and brought the bite to my lips. The decadent flavor melted on my tongue. My eyes fluttered closed, and I moaned.

"That good?"

I opened my eyes to find him watching me with an intensity I hadn't expected. "Yeah." I swallowed the bite and took another. "You're gonna have a hell of a time topping this."

His brow arched. "Is that a challenge?"

"Maybe," I said before eating another bite.

"Accepted." He put a forkful of the cake in his mouth. "Wow, that is good. Damn it."

"Told you." My words garbled as I tried to speak around a mouthful of cake.

Chris set the plate aside and took my fork.

"Hey, I'm not done with that." I pouted.

"And I'm not done with you." He closed the gap between us in a breath and kissed me. I tasted the chocolate on his tongue and sighed as he pushed me back onto the bed.

"How would you like to be my personal housekeeper from now on?" he asked between passionate kisses.

I sighed. "Hmm, as tempting as that offer is, it sounds kind of shady."

"I'm serious."

"So am I." I searched his face for some sign of teasing, but he seemed honest. "Do you say this to all your housekeepers?"

"No."

"But you just met me."

He shrugged. "I know you're a hard worker...and extremely thorough." He winked and slid his hand under the fabric of the shirt, his palm covering my breast.

"Depends on the benefits." I tried to hold back a moan as he rolled my nipple between his fingers.

"All the benefits, and I expect full service every day and turndown every night." He grinned. "What do you say?"

"Only if you can prove that sex is better than chocolate in the next seven hours." I glanced at the clock. It was just after eleven. He had until six am to prove it. And I intended to make him work for it.

"Deal." He kissed me again. This time soft and slow. A sensual dance that made my stomach flip and insides melt.

Oh yes, I was definitely going to take him up on his offer. I slid my hand into the waistband of his underwear and found him hard again. Taking him in my fist, I stroked, being sure to tease the tip with my thumb.

Chris gasped against my mouth. "Fuck me."

"Oh, I intend to do much more than that." Full service with a smile that was my motto.

"Like jerk me off in the shower?" he teased.

Pretending to be insulted, I pulled away.

He tugged me back and kissed me until I everything else fell away.

"Curiosity killed the cat," he murmured against my lips.

"But satisfaction brought her back," I replied.

"Are you satisfied, kitten?" He pressed kisses along my jaw.

"Keep going. I'll let you know." When he bit my neck, leaving an aching spot, I knew he'd claimed me.

Fuck, I loved this job.


End file.
